


The New Year

by ExpectoPadoughnut



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, snamione, snanger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3099170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpectoPadoughnut/pseuds/ExpectoPadoughnut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva hosts a New Year's Eve party and Severus is forced to attend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Year

**Author's Note:**

> Severus and Hermione- Snanger/Snamione - is something I've recently become fond of. What do you think?

_Ten…_

Severus leaned into the alcove with a heavy eye roll and a disgruntled sigh. He hated Minerva's New Year's Eve parties. She had insisted he attend this year, going so far as to threaten that he would get Hogsmeade patrol every month until he retired.

_Nine…_

Hermione slipped away from the huddle of her former teachers; she still found it difficult to call them colleagues, despite working at Hogwarts a full year now. She caught sight of him where he stood, arms crossed and shoulders propping him against the stone wall.

_Eight…_

He scowled at the jovial count down. Minerva clutched her hands in front of her chest, beaming around at the teachers. He shot her a challenging glare, daring her to comment but she didn't; having him attend was enough.

_Seven…_

She smiled over at him. He was trying to bait Minerva with his glares; a common occurrence during staff meetings and social occasions. He was a brooding man and alluringly mysterious. When she accepted Minerva's job offer earlier that year, a huge part of her had been terrified of meeting the man who had tormented her in class… the man who had sacrificed so much to help her and her friends.

_Six…_

An awareness overcame him; _old habits die hard,_ he thought, as he jerked his head enough to source out the pair of eyes glued to him. _Granger._ She would be at Hogwarts a year tomorrow after Professor Vector's retirement. He admitted to himself that she had changed since they had last met; she was no longer the bushy haired, irritating wiseacre little girl he had been forced to teach. No, Granger had become a well-rounded, interesting and attractive young woman.

_Five…_

She was standing in front of him without realising that she had even moved. Along the way she had picked up an extra glass of wine and without speaking held it out to him. He wasn't as snarky with her as he used to be; somewhere over the course of the last year they had found mutual grounds and were actually capable of having stimulating conversations.

_Four…_

The wine tasted sweet against his pallet. He nodded in thanks and puffed another sigh. "I didn't think this was your scene," he commented, eyeing her now. She wore a low cut set of robes that flashed her high collar bone. Her skin looked soft and smooth and he longed to trace his finger along the protruding bone.

_Three…_

…

His eyes traveled over her neck. She loved how calm his eyes were now, long ago losing the harsh look he had needed to obtain during his years as a spy. "It's generally not," she admitted, finishing her wine and toying with the rim. "But Minerva is persistent. I'm sure you already know considering you're here too." His hands looked strong; she noticed when he lifted the wine glass that he had a series of tiny white scars across his knuckles.

_Two…_

"She never did hold much esteem for people's personal preference," he grumbled. She was biting her lip again; a ritual habit of hers when they spoke as of late. He couldn't help but watch her pale pink lip redden beneath the pressure. Then her fingers touched his knuckles, tracing the series of white scars he had attained in his youth. Her fingers were soft and he felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

_One…_

She wasn't sure why she did it, but she didn't regret touching him when she saw those obsidian eyes flare with interest. Beneath her fingertips his hands were rough, but she knew from seeing him brew that they could be gentle and caring. He opened his mouth to say something, his lips glistening in the glow from the candles and she was sure that he was trying to form words.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the professors around them cheered, a stream of confetti falling from the sky.

In the alcove they took no notice, their lips having found one another with the softest touch, and the faintest of smiles mirrored one another. "Happy new year," they whispered to each other, and what a promising one it seemed.


End file.
